Saying Goodbye
by artemis lecter
Summary: Sirius is dead . . . but that doesn't prevent him from attending Dumbledore's funeral. Sirius' POV.


Disclaimer: All characters belong to the magnificent J.K Rowling. I just screw around with them.

I don't believe it. I'm dead for a bloody year, and this happens? How is Harry supposed to take this? He's been through enough, the poor kid.

I always thought of Dumbledore as indestructible. That was what made everyone who met him (and even those who hadn't) respect him so much. He was so wise and powerful, and was simply one of those people you would trust without question. I felt bad about how I had treated him last year, resenting him for keeping me locked up in that damn house.

I remember my own death- every detail. I remember laughing at Bellatrix as she repeatedly tried to jinx me. I also remember everything that happened when she finally did; I was **shocked **that she actually hit me. I guess in my arrogance I never expected that to happen.

When I fell, I saw a million things fly through my mind. I saw memories of my days at Hogwarts with James and Remus. I remembered being best man at James and Lily's wedding. I recalled the day Harry was born. My memory of hearing the news about James' death flashed through my head. And then, when I realized that I truly was going to die, I thought about the fact that I was never going to see Harry again, the same way I was never going to see James again. At least it was a painless death.

I did see James, however. I disappeared from Harry's sight, but James found me. I remember that very clearly; I was lost until I saw James, who led me out of the veil toward the afterlife. Fortunately, I can wander around on earth as I please.

My eyes searched the crowd. From my place a short way away from all of the mourners, I could see the massive bodies of Hagrid and his brother, sitting in their chairs sobbing. All the first years (damn, they **do **get shorter every year) had tears streaming down their faces. I also saw Remus and Tonks, holding hands. I smiled slightly; Dumbledore would have been happy that something good had happened in the midst of all of the sorrow. I kept looking through the crowd, searching for one face in particular.

Finally, I see him. Sitting next to Ron and Hermione, Harry had no tears on his face. I wasn't very surprised. Harry was always astonishingly strong, both emotionally and physically—though I'm sure sometimes he doesn't feel that way. He truly is his father's son, but that's only half the reason why he's so tough. He's seen and done so much more than Lily or James ever got to. My stomach seemed to twist when I thought about it. It wasn't right that Harry should have been put through so much, just as it wasn't right that all of those kids were there, witnessing the funeral of the greatest wizard of all time.

Heaving a sigh, I walked toward him. It wasn't easy to ignore the sobs coming from Hermione, though they were slightly muffled by Ron's shoulder. Harry kept his eyes focused straight ahead, and the careful observer could see that he was fighting the flow of memories of Dumbledore that were coming to him.

I wanted more than anything to embrace my godson. Instead I stared at him, admiring his bravery and wondering if he would ever let the tears in his brilliant green eyes flood out.

I reluctantly turned from my place by Harry's side and walked to the whit tomb in front of the crown, invisible to all of them. I listened as people droned on about Dumbledore, none of it meaning anything, really. Dumbledore would have hated the sadness; his idea of a perfect funeral for him would probably have been a few short words of remembrance followed by a huge feast. None of what anyone was saying mentioned what Dumbledore really was: kindness and hope and courage. I shut out the voices around me so I could say my own personal goodbyes. I knelt down next to the tomb.

"Thank you," I whispered, trying to keep my voice from shaking like a leaf. "For everything. For helping me escape, and keeping me safe. For letting Remus go to school. For protecting Harry. For just . . . being you."

I felt a tear slip down my cheek, and was suddenly glad no one could see me.

I took a minute to collect myself, and then stood up. Time to go. I turned to my right, and felt my eyes widen slightly in surprise. I very thin, tall man with a long, white beard and a crooked nose was waiting for me. I smiled to myself.

I walked to the lake, the smile still on my face. Dumbledore looked exactly as he always had. I looked carefully for any signs that he was having difficulty coping. I saw none, and again I was not surprised.

"Professor Dumbledore," I greeted him. He smiled in return. He seemed to sense my worry.

"Ah, Sirius . . . do not worry about me. I feel absolutely perfect." He said it so reassuringly that I immediately believed him.

I looked over to where Harry and his friends were sitting, fairly close by.

"Do you think they'll be all right, professor?" I asked Dumbledore. He nodded.

"Yes, Sirius . . . I think they will be just fine."

That was enough for me.

Dumbledore and I turned away from the lake to leave. I looked back once more at my godson, and I found that I shared the same opinion as Dumbledore. He was going to be alright.

"You know," Dumbledore said, "I do have one regret."

I looked at him, confusion evident in the furrowing of my brow. "Oh? What might that be?"

He looked at me, with a slightly sad look upon his face.

"I don't think I'll ever get over how many more lemon drops I could have eaten . . ."

Same old Dumbledore.

A/N: Alright, that's it . . . read and review please!


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